Recap 6
From Dukus's Perspective: I drew a card and reality shattered. I saw my body flee as I flew to the heavens, Poseidon bless me. I woke and before me stood an Angel, the senses bestowed on me revealed his nature to me, a beautiful celestial being. I rose and found my body strange and unwieldy. I looked at my hands and found them to be a massive patchwork with crude, seemingly random stitching. The celestial spoke to me and said “rise my son!” From there on everything became strange. My divine sense told me that yes, this was an Angel standing in front of me, but one fallen from grace, an evil specter of pure goodness. I spoke and he was surprised that I was not what he thought. He had created a Golem of flesh and blood from Poseidon knows how many bodies, and that my soul had slipped into it and now controlled it. He was not convinced until I released a small blast of eldritch energy into the corner. Upon scanning the large room I saw another creation in the corner, but this one, unlike my grotesque physic, was in the form of a beautiful woman, either human or elven (I can barely tell them apart), that he had, like my body created. He revealed he intended for her to be the bride of the evil one, I at first thought he meant himself, but he revealed he intended to wed her to none other than Stradh himself. I cannot recall if she had a name but she stood mute, but beautiful next to the fallen paragon. He demanded that I, being his creation, should obtain for her a beautiful wedding dress for her nuptials. I begged delay of his quest until morning and he bedded me in a room up from the hall/lab I was in now. My room companion was also a misshapen creature a little more than half my new height. His name was Clovis and he had two heads, one that seemed unconscious, and misshapen legs and one arm ending in a claw, he seemed harmless so I drifted off to be released from the nightmare. I woke to find this ordeal was my new reality; Clovis was asleep. I ventured out of the 2nd floor room through the only door, to find a parapet over a courtyard, stationed at regular intervals were what I can only describe as scarecrows, in rusty chain and spear. I relieved one of the “guards” of his spear and ventured to a door on the other side of the courtyard on the parapet. I ventured inside and found a shambles in the room and stairs leading down which issued forth moaning and begging noises in barely decipherable common. Another door lay on the other side of the room which I opened to find what appeared to be a large infirmary, with many rooting beds. To the side, where three more doors that were labelled, an operating room, and the other two I cannot recall now. I entered the room and was almost immediately accosted by shadows such as we encountered in that cursed house of death. There were many and I was one, I reacted faster than them, even with my lumbering body, and fled into the room I had just left. To my surprise they seemed unable to leave their room, I should have turned and destroyed them trapped as they were with my eldritch fire, but overwhelmed with so much I beat a hasty retreat to where Clovis lay sleeping. Soon enough he woke and asked for my assistance, that he had a task from “the Abbot”; this is how he referred to the fallen celestial. I accompanied him, and asked to meet the Abbot. He referred to the abbot in reverent tones and told me he had not awaken yet, but he must accomplish his duties. We went down the hall and Clovis grabbed a large pot (he appears to be very strong) of gruel that was in the fireplace. We entered the courtyard, which contained many doors, with screeching creatures behind them, also a well, and a post with a struggling creature tied to it that appeared to be a cross between a small human and a bat. We proceeded to the doors one by one and ladled out the gruel into awaiting wooden bowls. Behind each door was a creature, or sometimes many creatures, that I have a hard time describing, Clovis called them his brothers and sisters the “moggel folk”. They had animal body parts, sometimes faces or jaws sewn in replacement of their limbs, some were incapable of talking, others of walking, some had wings, or horns, or long lagging tongues, my senses told me some were evil but some were just normal beings. Clovis told me these changes were “gifts” from the Abbot, blessings that his people craved, to give them powers and abilities beyond normal beings. I realized that the Abbot was evil as I had ever seen; that he must be destroyed along with all his hideous monstrosities. I also realized this was something I could not do alone, I would need to get back to my companions and together we would face and overcome the wretched house of despair. I finish assisting Clovis with his task, at times having to scare back the hording masses from an open door less they overwhelm us. We returned to the hall of my rebirth where I found the Abbot once again. I told him I would go to Valakki to obtain a dress for his female mechanism. I requested some supplies and transport to buy this dress, he gave me a small bag of gold, and I went upstairs to equip myself. Having no clothes, armor or in fact anything at all, I stole from the scarecrows on the parapet, I took for myself two chain shirts and a shield; and from Clovis, I took some hides to cover myself from the cold, this body was no longer immune to its effects. I left the poor creature with a piece of gold for my theft so that maybe he could buy the wine he whined for constantly. I left with the Abbot’s “blessings”, with directions to Valakki. I lumbered forth to find the group that had lightly assisted me in breaking the evil house. With their assistance, meager as it is, I would come back and destroy. One more thought entered my head as I left, the rantings of a certain priest, I was actually looking forwards to it. From Adrian's Perspective: Adrian's Journal, 1472 DR, Day five(?) in Barovia: Again, fuck this place. Finally we found a moment of rest only for one of our companions to get his soul sucked into a flesh creature as described by Ronin and another to lose all his physical belongings. I'm not sure what the other two did to Kai and myself... however.. The gypsy camp was a much needed respite. Focusing on simple pleasures seems almost alien now, like watching a past self dance and be merry. The hearty breakfast prepared by our Vistani hosts helped quell a throbbing head ache from some questionable opium. At least the pounding in my head quieted down Sigmund's usual complaints about not getting enough food. I always knew how to convince Mother Lisa to give me an extra cookie or two. However, his voracious appetite did help on the climb. Moger, Kai and I probably were still drained from our ordeals in the previous days since the climb was difficult. Or maybe just spent more time on bolt crafting, literature and deduction or Lathander knows what Moger does in his free time involving livestock. Sigmund and Ismark helped and with a rope we ascended. Ronin showed unusual grace in the climb, he seems lithe and dainty but continues to surprise. The rest of the climb was mere drudgery, mist and a dark sky making it even more bleak. However, I did have a conversation with Ireena. Ronin did remark that she didn't look much like her brother. He questions a lot, I tend to not conclude without the proper information. But, he was right. I pushed her for information, maybe with a little insensitivity on her first bite and familial resemblance. Apparently, there were no pictures of her mother in the house while growing up. We managed to gather later with comments from Ismark the following: -Ismark and Ireena are not blood relatives. -His father mentioned this to Ismark on his death bed, he withheld the exact words. -She was found in the woods as a babe. -Strahd rarely shows such interest in just ordinary women (He was mostly just a folktale to scare children, stayed in his castle) Our key out of this prison is Strahd, learning why he is so interested in our charge is vital information. When Father Gabriel had me interrogate criminals for the order, we had to first learn what motivates them. Then use that to break them. Back to the day... we reached a bridge. A stone bridge, structurally sound and flanked by two dark but beautifully crafted gargoyles. The view from above was breath taking, a rare moment of beauty of a waterfall below and gentle mists in this dimly lit place. A beauty broken only by our timid hesitation, paranoia, and Sigmund's complaints. Again, this place teases you with the promise of relief only for you to notice the soothing rain is Devil's piss. The gates, the boundary of Strahd's realm while he was alive within reach only for horse hoofs in the distance. We hid. A carriage, no driver, magnificently crafted, black and surrounded by an eerie mist. An invitation, a familiar script with a long graceful I like a swan's neck. The same as the letter the Order received. He brought us here, he wants us here for some reason, he was inviting us in. Ronin tantalized the foolish notion of accepting. That day, maybe the Devil was whispering in his ear. Probably by that time the scent of death and deception tainted him. Who knows what drove him to... well.. that happened later. We declined, most agreed. Moger and his laissez-faire attitude probably would have went in as well. Maybe to finally face him, to just go there and be done with it all is what tempts us. Even in death. The exit was so close until we were confronted by the howls we heard as soon as we step foot in this cursed place. Wolves. Wolf men, werewolves and gigantic dire wolfs. Fucking huge. As large as Aunt Gertrud's prize hog if not larger. We were the hogs though, their dinner. The first two came from the north, I spotted them in the foilage. So proud of my keen eye was I before they nearly gouged it out. Once again Sigmund's healing words brought me back... By then it was chaos. Bolts of magic from the meagerly clothed Moger, Ronin dancing between fur, Kai retreating covered in blood. I pulled back to some trees and looked at my wounds, then saw Sigmund face to face with a Werewolf. I couldn't leave him. Remembering Ismark's words and old stories I loaded a silver bullet in my revolver, that I now named Lisa after Mother. The bullet pierced, it howled. A smile broke across my face as Sigmund deflected a blow. A crossbow pierced its shoulder. Ismark cut into a wolf with grace and things were going well. I smiled, then... Ronin was surrounded by three wolves. His elven arts were strange, humming as he dodged blow after blow, I think I saw him smiling. He stepped back, then the Devil whispered. With bravado he stepped forward, curious, challenging almost taunting them. Then this place showed us again. Teeth. Blood and angry eyes. They ripped at his throat. He was dead. I don't remember the rest, my lips tasted blood and the strange powder this device emits. Ears ringing as we carried his broken body. To Vallaki... Maybe another safe haven where we can gather information. Meet up with whatever Dukus is now and find a way to bring us all together. We need to be stronger. Or we'll all end up hanging from those gallows.